Halo: Firestorm
by raptor125
Summary: Halo: Firestorm is an AU (alternate universe) take on the already popular video game Halo. It's a realistic take on the human-covenant war. The UNSC has received an overhaul from the spacecraft to ground vehicles. The story arc will go from Harvest to the end of the war, hopefully. It will be told from the point of view of multiple characters.
1. Chapter 1

Halo Firestorm

Chapter 1: Contact

October 9, 2525

1500 Hours (Shipboard time)

Epsilon Indi System

The two Berlin class fast attack craft, _Hamburg_, and _Dresden_ swept into the system at FTL speeds. Their warp bubbles terminated; the accumulated high energy particles cascaded outwards in all directions, rapidly diffusing in the vast distances of space. Their sensors were blind before in the warp bubble, but now they awakened and greedily soaked up data like a gluttonous guest at a dinner party. The LIDAR, RADAR, and optical arrays took in everything that was worthwhile. They 'sailed' further into the system with every second. By virtue of conservation of momentum, they kept their pre-jump velocity.

It was a fairly unremarkable system as far as the rest of human settled space was concerned. It was a K-type main sequence star, which was common in the universe at large. Several worlds and an asteroid belt orbited the star, which was named Epsilon Indi. The only interesting part of the system was the habitable world of Harvest. It was named for its bountiful agricultural fields. It was out of the way and quite remote; it was the furthest colony from Earth, about 95 light years away.

It was rare for military vessels to be out here. Hamburg and Dresden were there because contact had been lost with the system. They were investigating what may have caused the break of communication. The crews expected it to be a milk-run, so to speak. They expected it was just a broken communications array that needed replacement. Little did the FAC crews know; the problem was actually much worse than that. It took mere milliseconds for the supercomputers to make something useful out of the tsunami of ones and zeros.

A visual representation of the area was displayed on Captain Keith Armstrong's screen. Startled would be a mild word for what he felt. A portion of Harvest's surface was melted down to glass it seemed. Some parts of the glassed area were still hot from whatever had bombarded it. He knew nuclear weapons got hot enough to glass areas, but how could the Innies get their hands on enough high yield nuclear bombs to do this? "Is there any sign of radiation on the surface?" he inquired. "No sir, we're not reading any radiation or residual fallout. This wasn't the result of a nuclear bombardment," the sensors tech replied. He paused, "There's one other thing, there's a ship in orbit. Doesn't fit any CMA, UNSC, or UEG designs." The Captain stared at the representation grimly; some instinct told him it might be the culprit.

It was bulbous and sleek with several projections he could only guess at the purpose of. It looked almost like one of Earth's whales. In other words, it looked nothing like any human design. It was all curves, while human ships were utilitarian in every way. A contemporary human vessel (Berlin class FACs included) has three main sections, the nose, the core, and the drive section. On the Berlin FAC, the engine section was 3/5ths the length of the vessel while being twice the diameter of the rest of the ship. It housed a single fusion reactor and several back up molten salt reactors. The engine section was also filled with capacitors, which were informally called batteries. Nacelles were on the outside of the engine section which housed radiators that were folded away during combat or FTL jumps. Housed inside the radiators were photovoltaic panels for secondary power.

The core section contained the internal centrifuge. The core section housed much of the ammunition on the vessel and the inner decks had crew rations. The crew quarters were in the centrifuge, along with the gym, medical bay, and mess hall. The very outer decks of the core section housed missile launch bays. In addition, the waste recycling system and RCS maneuvering thruster fuel tanks are here. Four turret mounts surrounded the core section, which were armed with gauss cannons. They used tightly wound magnetic coils to launch projectiles at high velocities. Last but not least a hangar is in the core section with two Pelican dropships. It wasn't hard to imagine this was the most vital part, if you ignored the engines.

The nose section isn't very remarkable as far as design goes. It contains an observation deck in the tip. The bridge is buried deep within the nose, not far from the core section. Some docking ports surrounded the nose, along with RCS thrusters. There wasn't really anything else worth mentioning in this section. From bow to stern the FAC was about 450 meters long, or 1,300 feet to those not versed in the metric system. It had a crew of roughly 90 men and women. The FACs were nicknamed 'suicide boats' within the space forces. However, the crews took that infamous nickname as a compliment. They're the smallest craft that deserve the term "warship" and filled the historic role of frigates.

The alien ship turned towards the small FACs and exhaust flared out of its main drives as they flashed into life. "Unknown vessel, cease movement now, further attempts will be considered hostile provocation," the captain said, sending off the message. He didn't know if they could even understand, but it didn't hurt to try. "No response and no change in heading," an officer said. Fuck, Armstrong thought, I was hoping it wouldn't come to this. "Fire a warning shot across their bow," he ordered. The ship shuddered slightly as a gauss round left the barrel. "Still no change in heading," the officer called out again. Captain Armstrong felt the tension rising and saw the other techs looking at him from their workstations. "Fall back; we can't take a vessel of that size. Hopefully we can outrun it," he said, trying to sound confident.

He knew they had waited too long and the ship would catch up before they could change their vector. The FACs turned around, but still had forward velocity towards the alien ship. They had to burn that velocity and then rebuild it in the opposite direction. At the moment Armstrong despised the physics that governed the universe. Tension continued to build as they decelerated and started accelerating again. The thermal nuclear rockets strained their hardest to gain speed. The alien vessel hadn't had to decelerate, so it had an advantage. "I'm detecting an energy build up. I suspect it's a weapon of some sort." A glow appeared at the tips of one of the ships' projections. After a few seconds a beam leapt out and speared _Hamburg_ through the drive section.

The charged particle accelerator gutted the FAC. It became a new star for a moment as the fusion reactor lost containment and released its plasma. All that was left of several thousand metric tons of metal, and ninety men and women was an expanding and cooling cloud of dust and particles. The crew of _Dresden_ stared at the screen in horror. Armstrong watched the seconds tick by, every moment seeming like an eternity. Eventually, in what seemed like an unimaginable period of time, _Dresden_ started to gain velocity on the alien battleship. The crew cheered at the revelation they were going to survive another day. _Dresden_'s warp drive charged up and a new warp bubble was formed. It leapt out of the system faster than light ever could.

A few weeks later the shell-shocked crew and FAC arrive at Reach, the military capital of the UNSC. Armstrong sends a high priority code black message to FLEETCOM HQ. Code black meant it was top secret and had the highest encryption codes. There was no sense in starting a panic over what they had seen. Besides, ONI would have their heads from a blatant security breach. That was in a literal sense. Now they only had to wait for further orders.


	2. Chapter 2

Halo: Firestorm

Chapter 2: Counter-Attack

November 17th, 2525

Epsilon Eridani system

Planet Reach

1800 Hours

Admiral Preston Cole was not a happy man, especially considering the current circumstances. Humanity was on the verge of a full scale civil war and to top it off there had been a new attack on the Frontier. He had been called by FLEETCOM for an important meeting on Reach. Currently he was riding the automatic tram system that navigated the labyrinth expanse of the underground portion of Fleet HQ. He wondered what this was about; they weren't keen on sharing details. Something tells me I won't like the answer, he thought with a sigh. Suddenly there was a scraping sound of metal on metal and the train jerked to a stop. The doors soundlessly slid open automatically. Admiral Cole stood from his seat and exited the tram car.

After numerous security checkpoints, Admiral Cole entered the conference room. Several armed security soldiers stood at the doorways. They had the ONI insignia on them with grey uniforms. As far as the UNSC knew, the insurrection was still an issue, so all of the security was for good reason. However, Admiral Cole felt they were on alert for something else. The conference room was a rectangular room with a table in the middle surrounded by chairs. In the center of the table was a holographic projector. There were 'windows' but they were obviously fake considering the place was underground. They showed images of wilderness scenes somewhere on Reach. Paintings of past admirals and UNSC military exploits were on the walls.

Lord Hood was seated directly in front of Cole. He was a greatly respected Admiral, the De Facto leader of the UNSC. Cole was surprised to say the least to see him here. "Good to see you Preston, sit down. By now you probably guessed I didn't call you over for small talk. We have a grave matter to discuss today," Hood said in a gravelly voice. Cole took a seat as asked and felt he wouldn't like what he'd hear. "What is it Terrence, why all this security?" he asked. "We've been attacked at a border colony by a previously unknown force. It's not the innies this time, it's something worse. ONI thinks it's something extraterrestrial in nature," Hood replied grimly. Cole was shocked and a little skeptical, but he knew Hood wasn't one to make wild stories.

Hood gestured to an ONI agent sitting in one of the seats. "This is CODENAME: Kestrel. She has all known information on these aliens so far." Kestrel was a short, petite woman with short brown hair and auburn eyes. "We know very little about them, but they are called the Covenant. We know they're a collection of races in a caste system of sorts. They have technology far in advance of ours. The spacecraft have energy shielding of some sort and the hulls are made of a light yet strong unknown alloy." She tapped a few commands in on her data pad and a holographic image of a bulbous spacecraft that resembled some form of marine life from Earth was projected. "This is the battleship they found over Harvest." Cole stared at the craft with a mix of awe, admiration, and fear. It looked more like a work of art than a warship. He also noted it dwarfed most human ships.

CODENAME: Kestrel continued, "Before Hamburg managed to go to warp they received an audio message. It was in perfect English, which seems to imply they've known about us for a while. I'm sure you're aware of the staggering implications of this." She tapped a few more commands and played the audio recording. A deep menacing yet obviously fabricated voice spoke, "Your destruction is the will of the gods, and we are their instrument." Cole raised an eyebrow, "So they're a bunch of religious fanatics? And to think we thought a higher developed alien race would be above this kind of thing." he said with a tinge of irony in his voice. "While that may be true, it is no reason to underestimate them, Preston. They obviously a force to be reckoned with," Hood warned. Cole nodded, "and I agree Terrence. Any student of military history knows underestimating the enemy is a grave mistake."

Hood changed the subject, "What should we do about this? Since we have no leads, I say we put together a task force to take back Harvest. I would lead the task force, but I have far too many duties to risk myself in battle. Harper is in charge of defenses here on Reach. So I believe you're the best choice for this operation." Cole thought for a moment, "I agree. The other admirals are too far from here to get back in time. And in terms of seniority I am the highest ranking admiral other than you and Harper. I will send you an order of battle for the forces I think are ideal." Hood would reply, "Then this meeting is adjourned. I'll approve any requests, I trust your judgment." He smiled, "Just try not to get yourself killed, my friend."


	3. Chapter 3

Halo: Firestorm

Chapter 3: The Fleets Arrive

Admiral Preston Cole stared out through the view port at his flagship. It was the UNSC Normandy, an Antietam class Battlecruiser. It was older than the Admiral himself, his great grandfather could have served on it. That was not rare in the UNSC fleet. A large space battle had not been fought in centuries so there was no great need for new warships. The currently serving hulls were built to last and were quite strong. Generally speaking, most of the spacecraft aged well; most observers couldn't guess the hulls had been in service for decades. It had the same basic design of most UNSC spacecraft with a nose, core, and engine section. There was a slight bump in the core section where the spin ring was.

Admiral Cole admired the large form of the ship that practically radiated power. It was bristling with missile ports, lasers, and railgun turrets. He glanced across the zero gee warning across the front of the docking port. He pushed off gently from the threshold of the portal and floated down from the tube. A chief petty officer stood at the end, within the battlecruiser. Cole grabbed a hand hold and came to a halt, saluting, "Permission to come aboard?" he asked. The CPO returned the salute, "Permission granted, sir." It was a formality taken from naval tradition back in the sailing days, but a very real one. Until he officially took command he was no more than a visitor. His rank didn't change that fact.

Cole usually felt at ease inside the thick bulkheads of a warship, but he had a cold feeling inside right now. He felt it in his soul and he couldn't quite drive it away. He knew deep down it was fear, not that he would admit it to anyone. However he wouldn't let it affect his work; Cole was a creature of duty. Besides, who else would lead this mission? The other Admirals were elsewhere and would take weeks to arrive. That was far too long of a wait in Cole's opinion. Lord Hood was too important to risk in battle; that would be irresponsible for him to try. Cole was the only one to do it, it was his destiny, and nothing would keep him from it.

"Shall I escort you to the bridge?" the Chief Petty Officer asked. "Thank you Chief Petty Officer," he murmured, and the CPO led the way. Again this was a little formality. He knew damn well Cole could get to the bridge on his own. Anyone who had been in the Space Forces as long as himself knew their way around a ship.

Two marines were posted outside of the bridge when Cole arrived. "Admiral," one of them said, saluting. "Sergeant," Cole returned the salute. The marines stepped aside and the Admiral entered. He glanced around the bridge at the various displays and work stations. The room was cramped by planetary standards but quite large compared to a FAC's bridge. Cole made his way to the flag officer's chair next to the captain's chair. He reached into his tunic and pulled out a cream colored package. As he did that he pressed a stud on the arm rest. A musical chime sounded all over the ship, alerting all to the announcement.

All activity on the battlecruiser stopped as eyes were drawn to the view screens. Cole tore the seals of the package and took out a vanilla folder. He opened it and took out the piece of parchment that had his orders on it. The paper crackled and sounded from every speaker. He spoke, "From Fleet Admiral Lord Terrence Hood, United Nations Space Command Defense Force Space Forces to Admiral Preston Cole, UNSCDF Space Forces, Twelfth Month, Twenty-Seventh Day, Year Twenty-Five Twenty-Five, Standard Military Calendar. Sir, You are hereby directed and required to proceed aboard UNSC Normandy, BC-Zero-Five, there to take upon yourself the duties and responsibilities of commanding officer in the service of the United Earth Space Corps and Task-Force X-Ray." He folded up the orders and cast it off to the pickup. For almost five centuries those formal phrases had been used to transfer command abroad ships of the UNSC. And it was nowhere near the first time they had been spoken on the Normandy.

Cole turned to Captain Conley, "Mr. Exec. I assume command." Conley nodded, "Admiral. You have command." Cole pressed the stud down with a silent click. All the bulkhead intercom screens across the ship went completely blank. Cole finally sat in the flag officer's chair, which became his on the act of reading his orders. It was a brief reciting of formal phrases, but the act of reading them put the crew under his command. They were now bound to him unto death or reassignment. It was a staggering responsibility to be in command of such a large number of people. All their lives were dependent on how well he did his job. However, Cole was accustomed to the burdens of command by now.

"Thank you Captain." He glanced at the quartermaster, reading her nameplate. "Make a note in the log, Chief Arlington." She looked up for a second, "Yes sir, I'll get to that right away." Cole turned to the watching bridge officers, "I won't waste your time with any speeches. You all know your duties. We'll meet in the officer's mess when we go to warp." Cole then turned to Captain Conley, "Captain Joshua Conley, I've heard of you before. If I recall, you received the Star of Terra after action at the incident at Groombridge 34." He nodded, "Yeah, I was there. What about it?" he asked. "You did a fine job there Captain. Not many could turn around a disaster like that." Cole replied. "Thank you sir."

Groombridge 34 was an unimportant star system UNSC supply convoys passed through. When Captain Conley's flotilla went through there, a rebel task group ambushed them. The commanding officer there made a grave miscalculation and part of the transports and the flagship got destroyed. Captain Conley took command and consolidated his forces and turned the battle around. Like Cole had said, Conley received the star of Terra for his actions. It wasn't a small honor, but Conley thought little of it. He didn't think he was a hero; he was only doing his job.

Cole pressed another key on the arm rest and the main display popped out of its storage panel. It showed a visual representation of the growing Task Force X-Ray. It was made up of 43 ships at the moment and they were getting into formation now. There were destroyers, heavy cruisers, FACs, and a few of the large battlecruisers. Apparently Lord Hood had come through with his promise of approving any requests. Still, it would be another hour until they were in position.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Battle of Harvest

The UNSC _Normandy_ launched from its station and met up with the rest of Task Force X-Ray. Admiral Cole was checking the order of battle for now formed up battlegroup. There were 42 ships with a second Antietam class battlecruiser, the _Gettysburg. _After that were ten Shanghai class heavy cruisers, twenty Pskov class destroyers, and ten Berlin class FACs. Cole grouped the FACs into a single squadron. The rest of the task force was grouped into two flotillas. Each included a single Antietam class, five Shanghai classes, and ten Pskov classes. Assigning the operational units had to be done before they went to warp, because communication was impossible between ships.

Theoretically there could be trans-universal drives that allowed communication. However, nobody had figured out how to make such a thing happen. The idea was nicknamed the 'slipspace' drive, but little funding had went to the project. It would be expensive and the warp drive was already tested and reliable. Warping space around the craft was seen as a far more practical solution, even though there was little proof to support that claim. The existence of aliens made Cole wonder if they had made such a drive. It was a fleeting thought though, Cole passing it off as irrelevant.

"Is the task group ready for transit?" Cole asked aloud. "Aye sir, all ships are reporting all systems green," the coms officer replied. "Engineering, are we ready to go to warp?" Cole asked. "Yes sir, engineering reports no problems, we're good." Cole allowed himself a small grin; that was good. "Order the fleet to move out, we're going to Epsilon Indi." Captain Conley gave him a perplexed look, "Sir, that's a border system if memory serves me." Cole glanced at Conley, "I'll inform you of our mission once we get under way." Conley nodded with a look of understanding, "Yes sir."

The Alcubierre drive (named for French physicist Miguel Alcubierre, who came up with the idea) activated and the space-time around the ship warped and contorted. The space behind the ship expanded and the space in front contracted. The spacecraft technically didn't move, but the space it inhabited carried it towards Epsilon Indi. It was a clever way to navigate around the laws of general relativity.

"All senior officers meet me at the conference room. You all need to be briefed on what we'll be facing," Cole announced. The conference room was connected to the Command Information Centre (CIC) through one of the hatches so the officers didn't need to go far. Admiral Cole entered first followed by Captain Conley, his Executive Officer (XO), and the Tactical Officer. The room was dominated by an oval shaped table flanked by chairs. Other than portraits of past commanding officers and admirals who used the battlecruiser as a flagship it was sparsely decorated. "I had the comms officer inform Major McMaster come up here," Captain Conley said. "Good, he'll want to be here," Cole replied.

Finally all of the senior officers were in the conference room. The Surgeon Commander and Major McMaster had to arrive before Cole could start. Major McMaster was the commander of the marines on board the spacecraft. Technically he was a captain, but he got a brevet promotion to major. Nobody could be in doubt of who the commanding officer was in an emergency. Having two captains on board was asking for disaster. In practice that was probably unlikely but nobody was looking to risk it. McMaster was just a ground soldier assigned to a spacecraft and outside of the normal chain of command as a result. Still, that weird tradition existed.

Cole stood, thinking about how he should start the briefing. At first he tried to think of some clever way to begin and ease into his topic. His mind rejected that idea right away. He decided to be blunt instead and just give the full truth. When the bullets starting flying, so to speak, it wouldn't matter how he briefed his crew. Cole was a soldier, not a damn politician. They could keep the fancy speeches at home for all he cared.

He cleared his throat as everyone looked at him expectantly. "We've been attacked by aliens at one of the outer colonies," he began. Everyone looked totally shocked; evidently they were caught off guard. Then again how could they not be surprised? In the early days of expansion, humans expected to meet aliens at every system. After centuries of finding no sapient alien races that idea slowly evaporated. The common school of thought for the modern era was that humanity was alone. Cole shattered that idea for everyone by uttering that statement. Cole went on to tell them what Hood had told him back on Reach.

The officers all discussed tactics to fight this new enemy and any concerns they had. Shortly after, the meeting was concluded and all of the department heads went back to their stations. "Conley you have the bridge, I'll be in my office," Cole said. He made his way there to finish up some paperwork and to familiarize himself with the assets in his task force. The rest of the voyage was uneventful for the most part. The crew did some regular maintenance and minor repairs and the officers took care of their administrative duties.

"All hear this, we're exiting warp in one minute. Action stations, action stations, set Condition 1. This is not a drill, I say again this is not a drill. Prepare for combat maneuvers," Captain Conley's voice echoed throughout the ship. There was flurry of activity on the bridge as the command crew made their way to their work stations. They had no idea what would be there when they exited FTL, so it was better to be safe than sorry. Klaxons blared and red warning lights shone all around the ship.

There was no indication anything had changed when the warp bubble disengaged. At least from the inside, anyways. To any onlookers, there would be a large burst of gamma rays. The sensors rebooted and updated in a few seconds. A visual representation of the system appeared on Cole's repeater display. Blue icons represented friendly ships in the task group and a yellow one represented the flag ship.

There was a collective gasp as they stared at the images of Harvest. There was silence and then a shocked murmur going around the bridge. It was pockmarked with scars of orbital weapons fire. "A portion of the surface seems to be obscured by a large amount of ash in the atmosphere. I'm also seeing a lot of debris in orbit. It seems to be enough to account for all the satellites and stations and the comm platform," the sensors sysop observed. "I'm getting no IFF codes or human signals of any kind," the comms sysop said.

"Probably dead, or hiding, I presume," Captain Conley said, trying to keep his voice dispassionate. His effort wasn't totally successful. Cole couldn't blame him, a holocaust of this scale simply hadn't happened before. Fifteen million dead or missing. Cole felt a chill down his spine as he realized this probably wouldn't be the first time in this war. Hell, even in the time it took them to get to Harvest from Reach, another colony might've been attacked. He closed that line of thought, this wasn't the time to get distracted.

"We'll worry about that later, we have a possible battle to win," Cole said. "Task Force, all ahead full to the colony. Active scans. No point in hiding, they probably already know we're here," the Admiral ordered.

The task force closed in on Harvest when the sensors sysop called out, "Sir! Detecting drive signatures in orbit. It's them." Cole stared at the view screen as the dark shapes turned towards the human fleet. The battleship in the first encounter wasn't there, which made Cole wonder where it was. Was it in the system still, or had it moved on? Both scenarios were equally terrifying.

There were fifteen enemy vessels in total ahead of them. Five of which appeared to be the equivalent to cruisers, and ten looked like destroyers. "Designate destroyer sized craft Bravo, and Cruiser design as Charlie. The battleship should be referred to as Alpha if seen," Cole said. The naming system was pretty dull, but it worked. They now had a quick way of differentiating ships. Maybe after they got data home the eggheads could come up with some more creative names. But that wasn't Cole's problem.

The two masses of ships approached each other and braked before getting into range. "Destroyers and FACs stay up front and provide cover for the cruisers. Keep the smaller ships off of us. Cruisers concentrate on the Charlies," Cole ordered. "Keep calm people, we'll get through this. We outnumber them 3:1." Despite the reassuring comment, Cole had his doubts. The power curves they had gotten from the particle beams in the first engagement were terrifying. These ships wouldn't be as powerful, obviously, but it still showed that these aliens had a greater technological base than humanity. Sure, his force had the number advantage, but he wondered if it'd make a difference.

The human ships fired a missile barrage at the aliens at long range. The nuclear tipped Jericho missiles closed in at high speed. Then the alien PD opened up and beams speared missiles one by one. Only a third of the missiles got through the fire. A couple of the Bravos broke up into pieces and a Charlie was damaged. The alien ships then started to close in to energy weapon range.

The crew cheered as the first alien ships were destroyed. Captain Conley hushed them and they went back to their duties. "Task force, close in! Don't give them time to pound us. They have greater range than us." The human ships charged forward to get to their effective ranges. "Sir!" tactical called out, "I'm reading missile launches from the ships." _Huh, I expected something more alien. Though, I do suppose the same laws of physics apply to them, _Cole thought.

Cole hoped the point defense techs knew what they were doing. This was the first taste of combat for many. There was no way to tell how they'd react to stress. He watched the tactical officer plot the point defense fire. The aiming was 95% computer driven and 5% intuition. That last percent could mean the difference between a damaged ship and a destroyed ship.

Cole was hoping to pin the enemy fleet over Harvest. That would limit their maneuvering options. It might cost him a bit more but it wasn't in him to cede the initiative. More than a few generals lost battles and wars by giving up the initiative. It was very tempting to be defensive, but a lot of the time it wasn't a good idea. Cole was an aggressive commander by nature.

Cole watched the angry red dots representing enemy missiles close in on his display. The computer extrapolated their paths with dotted lines. They moved into the outer range of the defensive armament. Lasers open fired on the missiles and they started limited evasive maneuvers. Laser was light speed but it was still inaccurate at this range. Two seconds lag time was enough to miss a small fast moving object. Still they scored some hits and a few missile icons winked out of existence as they were vaporized.

There wasn't much clever maneuvering in this engagement. But, then again the humans didn't need any. They outnumbered their foes by a large margin. Cole wondered why the aliens didn't retreat. They must've seen there was no way to win, even with better technology. Hubris, maybe? It didn't really matter, that was just academic at this point. It only helped him in the end. However, he had a nagging feeling it wouldn't last. Any race that managed to become spacefaring wasn't stupid.

As the enemy missiles got closer, hits became more common. Cole watched the distance tick down. It quickly dropped from one light second or 300,000 kilometers. The tension in the bridge rose as the objects closed. Despite defensive fire they cut into the human fleet. The missiles exploded, shaped plasma charges tearing deep into warships. Components, weapons, and people were consumed and vaporized. Cole winced as the _Ypres_ exploded from a magazine hit, reducing the destroyer to a cloud of debris. "Sir, I'm reading no life boats," Ensign Wilson said solemnly.

"Sir! The _Schwerin_ reports extensive damage. Captain Kirchner is requesting permission to abandon ship and scuttle," comms reported. "Denied. We need as many of those cruisers as we can get. I won't abandon a ship if it seems like we can keep it," Cole replied. "Yes sir," the comms officer said, relaying what Cole said. The Admiral might've said yes if it was a destroyer, but cruisers were expensive. If it was at all possible he had to preserve them. They were replaceable, but that would take a lot of time. The same couldn't be said about the battlecruisers or the extremely rare battleships. They were effectively irreplaceable in the short term.

The fleets closed and opened up with energy weapons; or in the human's case, railguns. Beams sliced though armor, power relays, equipment and sometimes organics. People died and ships were wrecked in the brutal engagement. Everyone knew their roles and did them to their fullest. Cole felt a little redundant at the moment. He didn't have anything to do save watch the battle unfold. He felt his stomach twisting and he was sweating. It wasn't because of the temperature of the air conditioned bridge though. His forehead and brow itched as sweat droplets went down. However, he chose to ignore it; no sense in showing weakness in front of the crew. He put on a brave stoic look and refused to betray the turmoil he felt inside. It wasn't the first time people died under his command, but never in such large numbers.


End file.
